


Cheesemaster VS Master of the Sheets

by gala_apples



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Coming Out, Drinking, M/M, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-05-04 12:09:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5333615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gala_apples/pseuds/gala_apples
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four am plus too many drinks plus a live stream equals actions you can’t take back. You’d think they would have learned that lesson from Gus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cheesemaster VS Master of the Sheets

**Author's Note:**

> ADDITIONAL WARNING: At one point in this fic a main character punches another main. I don't consider it domestic abuse, neither do the characters involved. But if this is the sort of thing that might trigger you, please don't read it.

At four in the morning Geoff fucks off for a nap. No one really minds. They’re busy playing a game of Cards Against Humanity, and he’s pretty sure Aaron mentioned something about poker. Too many people at Rooster Teeth are Vegas addicts for that to go anything but terribly. And by terribly he means hilariously, entertainment for any North American struggling to stay awake in the hours before dawn.

He doesn’t make much noise in saying goodbyes. No point, really. He’ll be back for the last hour. Technically Geoff doesn’t need to return. The stream won’t be lacking for entertainers; it’ll be a mix of people who didn’t stay overnight and are actually fresh, and die hards like Jack and Kerry who will be running on fumes of adrenaline. Nor does he need to show up for learning the total amount raised. They’ll disseminate that number a dozen different ways, journals and AHWU and probably a vid about it. Regardless of the technicalities Geoff’ll drag his ass out of bed in time for on-set at 7:59. He wouldn’t hurt Jack by skipping the grand finale.

His car is the only on the double wide driveway, of course. Between the six of them they own four, but what with everyone attending the stream in some capacity or another, the drive is empty. And dark. Geoff’s headlights, the two distant street lights, and Mr Chen’s kitchen light are the only things glowing in the pre-dawn dark. Thankfully he knows his own yard well enough to not trip and die on his way into the house.

It’s weird, laying down in the king bed by himself. To allow for as many different sleeping configurations as possible there are three bedrooms with three big beds between the six of them. There’s also the tiny pantry to bedroom reno that barely fits a twin bed, in case someone wants their own space. Whatever the configuration though, he’s always beside _someone_. Geoff’s not in the habit of sleeping alone, not anymore. There’s nothing warm and hairy to curl up into. If it wasn’t for the bone melting exhaustion he’d probably be unnerved enough to stare at the ceiling most of the night. As it stands, he’s out as soon as his head hits the pillowcase. Which he’ll have to wash tomorrow, seeing as he’s still got crumbs in his hair from an earlier Wheel of Destiny stunt.

The phone ringing what seems like moments after Geoff falls asleep is a horrific shock. He didn’t turn his phone off because why would he need to between four and seven am, but he’s regretting that common sense decision now. He works with fuckin’ dense morons, after all. Sense is not what most of Rooster Teeth strives for. No doubt he’s on speaker, going out to the audience. Fine. It’s not going to take much playing up to be theatrically angry.

“Have we really lowered to prank call the sleeping guy for entertainment?” Geoff snarls.

“Geoff something happened,” Blaine says in a rush.

“Did someone get hurt?” He’s wide the fuck awake now. He sits up with the phone pinched between his chin and shoulder and tries to figure out if it’s faster to get a new pair of jeans from the attic room they’ve turned into a wardrobe big enough for six people, or to find where the fuck he took his pants off in a bleary haze. He already knows they’re not in this bedroom.

“No. Everyone’s fine. But holy shit dude. Something-”

“Happened. Yeah, you fucking said. Wanna elaborate?”

In the hall are a discarded pair of shorts. Geoff’s like sixty percent sure they’re Gavin’s but fuck it. He’ll just not go on camera.

“I’m really paranoid about being overheard. Can you just meet me in the parking lot?”

“Fucking _dicks_ , dude,” Geoff replies and hangs up.

He drives back to the lot as quickly as he can. He’d guess he’s about to be ambushed and pranked, a pick me up for the participants and the audience in the wee hours, except for one thing. Blaine’s the only one who has contacted him. If something was planned, inevitably he’d have half a dozen calls or texts from people acting just a little too normal.

Blaine’s not actually in the parking lot so Geoff swipes his key card and goes in. The first thing he hears is Jack roaring “we’re not cutting the stream!”

He’s met with an equal shout from Barbara. “You’re not monitoring the chat! You don’t-”

“The fuck’s going on?” Geoff storms into the office.

“Well, we’re out,” Jack informs him with false cheer.

Geoff doesn’t feel informed at all. “Of...?”

“Look. We need to finish this. Could you go ask what happened from literally anyone?”

Confused as dicks Geoff exits, Barbara’s “look, I’m telling you long term it’ll be-” following him.

Thankfully it doesn’t take him long to find someone who actually has time to talk. Geoff comes across Grey and a few of the other RWBY guys still kicking around -their stretch goal was hours ago, broke it at 9:17, but why leave?- and interrupts them immediately. “Shit, would someone tell me what the fuck is going on?”

“So just after you left we reached the Nice Dynamite gross cocktails stretch goal, but Gavin wussed out immediately. Michael drank them all, ‘for the kids’. He got smashed. Like obliterated. He’s puking now actually. But he was drunk enough to kiss Ryan on camera.”

Well shit.

“We were laughing, trying to play it off. You know how it is here. Anything can be a joke if you really commit. Everyone was pretty sure that it’s no one’s business. Like you do whatever, right? Your business.” Alex shifts from foot to foot, arms crossed tightly. If Geoff had to guess, he’d say the animator is a typical Austin liberal, fine with everything as a concept, a little more disturbed when it’s come face to face. Geoff doesn’t have time to ease his transition though, not while he’s getting the weather report of the earlier shitstorm.

“But I guess not everyone’s got that party line. One of the interns asked ‘isn’t Michael dating Ray’ and I guess Steven probably thought he was off camera but it picked up the audio.”

“And then Gavin tried to fix it,” Alex picks up the thread again. “Threw his arms around Ryan and told him it’s okay to be cheeky with Michael since he’s cheeky with Meg.”

Geoff closes his eyes, just needing a moment’s break. Heaven fucking save him from tipsy Gavvers trying to bluff his way out of a situation.

“So most of our audience thinks Michael’s cheating on Ray. Half of them think Ryan and Gavin are together but open. Some people think it’s a prank and some are feeling brutal. We can kill the phobic stuff off the official chat but Reddit’s blowing up.”

“Jesus Christ,” Geoff mutters.

“Yeah it’s intense.”

“So who’s out there?” Michael isn’t, obviously, and Jack and Barbara. Ryan won’t be either. There’s a slim possibility of Gavin and Ray, but if Geoff had to put money down he’d bet on an impromptu airing of the pre-recorded commercial and the viewers coming back to an entirely new set of hosts.

“Kerry and Chris are leading a discussion about other movie journeys they should try. Aaron’s there too. The audience isn’t really staying on topic so Barbara wants to cut the stream. But Jack’s not okay with that. He’s really invested in this charity.”

Now that Geoff actually understands what the fuck is going on, he’s relieved. It’s not like it’s not a catastrophe. It totally fucking is, especially for Ryan, who isn’t even out to his family. Still, give him a catastrophe with parameters over a general inkling of an unidentified concern any day. Once you know what’s up things can be dealt with.

Step one for this particular disaster is get his boys home. Or at least some of them. There’s no way Michael should be here right now, and Gavin sounds nearly as drunk to have gone and said all that. Ryan and Ray are lesser problems, having been only acted upon, not acted. But Ryan’s a private guy, and Ray’s enough of an introvert to probably be grateful to leave.

“You guys know which bathroom Michael made it to?”

Grey tells him, and Geoff heads for it. Michael’s curled up on the grit textured grey floor. The toilet bowl is of a colour to suggest his ten drinks were a vast variety of mixes and shots. Surprisingly Ray’s perched on the edge of the double sink, playing something on his phone. He barely acknowledges Geoff coming in. Ray’s probably more than a little annoyed. This kind of bullshit is the whole reason he’s low-key straight edge; so he doesn’t become one of those drunk assholes who says or does the wrong thing at exactly the wrong time. Geoff’s honestly surprised to see him babysitting.

The least he can do for Ray is tag in. Geoff nudges Michael with his shoe. “Get up.”

Michael rolls onto his back, starfishing. He blinks up into what must be a halo of light around Geoff’s body blocking the rest of the fixture. “Geoff? But you were gone!”

“And now I’m here, you sadsack. So get up, so you can puke in the comfort of your own nearby washing machine.” Geoff doesn’t judge, lord knows he’s had his own moments. But he’s pretty sure the splotches on Michael’s shirt are left over bile after the chunks have been patted off. He needs to change asap.

Michael somehow manages to stand up, but he doesn’t get much further than that. He’s as wobbly as if his bones were spaghetti. Geoff supports him for a few feet, and then remembers what his actual mission is. Even if he successfully gets Michael buckled in, his job is only twenty five percent done. Time to foist his boyfriend back on his sober boyfriend.

“Can you get this chucklehead into the car while I find the others?”

“I don’t think Jack’s gonna leave.”

“Yeah, I know.” If he does that leaves someone else to pull the feed while he’s not there to defend it. Jack’d never allow that risk. 

Ray takes Michael’s weight with barely a sway and starts hauling him towards the exit. Geoff on the other hand goes deeper into the building. He finds Gavin sitting in the kitchen with an icepack on his eye. 

“The fuck happened to you?”

Gavin laughs bleakly. “Ryan and I had a conversation, or started to. Some things might have been said, like calm down, and not a big deal, and it’s about time, really, that weren’t agreed with.”

“So he punched you?” Geoff’s not sure where he stands on that. There’s a difference between tackling someone for being an idiot during Minecraft and actual violence.

“It was almost automatic. He apologised and got me ice before he left.”

“So you’re not upset or anything?”

“Do I think I was wrong? No. Being outed is no big deal.”

“Easy for you to say,” Geoff points out. Gav’s been out since the earliest podcasts, when someone asked about his gag reflex as related to genitals.

“Oh come on. It’s not like it’s the eighties and people’ll think he’s diseased. Never happened to me. So I’m not wrong, and he didn’t need to smack me one, but I’m not calling the police either. I just want to go home. Talk in the morning, maybe.”

“By some stroke of coincidence home and bed was my exact plan. You go to my car, I have to find Ryan.”

But he doesn’t. He sees crew running the stream with surprising focus considering the hour. He sees staff taking a quick breather from the camera and gets more than one inquisitive look that he neither has the time nor motivation to indulge. He even has a second to share a wordless glance with Jack and sling a commiserating arm around his shoulder. Ryan however is nowhere to be found. 

Eventually Geoff’s concern for how Michael is doing in the backseat outweighs his need to find his last boyfriend. With a sigh he goes back to the car, only to hear one of his favourite songs. Ray’s blasting the radio like he can vibrate Michael and Gavin into sobriety. Geoff doesn’t much turn the volume down on the way home. Not necessarily as a punishment, though fuck Michael and Gavin, seriously. The real reason is he’s too exhausted to play anything lowkey or melodic. Pulling a Gus and falling asleep while driving would only make the night worse.

Ryan’s car is already in the drive. Geoff makes a pretty solid assumption that the closed bedroom door means fuck off, so this time he lies with Ray. Michael and Gavin deserve each other at this point. It’s not like it’s a hardship to sleep with Ray, either. It actually works better than some other combinations. Geoff is a masculine enough man to admit that he hardcore cuddles. As soon as his conscious mind is off he’s grabbing for the nearest thing to squeeze. Ray can sleep like the dead and not only doesn’t mind being hugged for eight hours, but would probably also not mind being thrown out of a plane or having his toes broken.

“Noon okay?” Ray asks, both their cells in hand.

“Yeah.” Despite it being Sunday they do have to work. The pool of finished content is scarily small. Scarce would be a word. The original plan was to get a few Lets Plays in after the stream, sleep deprivation hopefully a direct line to the confusion and hysteria the audience likes so much. Now that that plan is fucked, might as well get almost six hours, almost a full night.

*

When his alarm goes off, Geoff instinctively bats the air in an attempt to smack it into silence. It doesn’t stop, of course, because he has no idea where Ray put down his phone, and therefore he’s not actually hitting shit all.

“Get up, asshole,” Ray says sweetly. Geoff can feel him getting out of bed, there’s a cruel draft of cool air on his right side.

“Fuuuck,” Geoff eloquently returns.

“I’ll get Michael, and see if Jack came home or passed out at the office. You- you just actually get up, okay?” Ray’s suggested division of labour implies he doesn’t trust Geoff to do anything on less than a full night’s sleep. Geoff would cry slander, except for how Ray bends over and gives him a kind morning breath kiss. Don’t bite the hand that loves you. 

Geoff pads out into the kitchen in the day’s t-shirt, last night’s boxers, and ridiculously stupid novelty slippers. It’s not even his fandom, Michael bought him Ninja Turtles ones. But dumb or not, they’re warm, and the tile floor is painfully cold when the AC runs all night. It’s not much of a surprise to see Gavin and Ryan up already. At least not individually. Ryan’s always had insomnia, more than the steady diet of caffeinated Diet Coke can explain. Gavin’s always up early; he’s a morning person and that weird combination of useless-lazy-efficient-competent that means he wants to get shit done so he doesn’t have to do any more shit later. Together though it’s odd, considering last night. You wouldn’t guess a fight at all, except for Gavin’s bruise.

“You two good?”

“Yeah, think so?” Gavin answers, glancing at Ryan for confirmation. Which he gets in the form of lack of denial.

“You done hitting people like an asshole when you’re mad?”

“We’re _fine_ Geoffrey. Come eat a banana.” Gavin gestures to the counter where there’s like fucking thirty because Jack can’t resist sales when it’s his turn to do the groceries. Better that than Ray’s turn though, which results in inevitably a few hundred bucks of frozen processed shit.

Geoff’s halfway through the damn banana when he hears multiple footsteps. One set keep walking, only for the shower pipes on the other side of the kitchen to roar. The other two come into the kitchen, Ray heading directly for the fridge. Good, everyone’s accounted for.

“Tell me that didn’t actually happen.” Michael is sickly pale, freckles in extreme contrast.

“Oh, it happened,” Ryan states. “You want to get your confirmation from Reddit or Tumblr?”

“Shit, dude, I’m sorry.”

The kitchen stills a little as people wait for reactions. Gavin might think Ryan’s going to whack Michael one too. Michael no doubt only cares about Ryan. As for Geoff, he’s fucking praying Gavin doesn’t talk big about Michael not needing to apologise for outing Ryan.

“Show me.”

“What?”

“Show me you’re sorry. Beg me for forgiveness.” Just as they’re wondering if Ryan’s serious -or at least Geoff is- Ryan smirks. “Feel free to talk your pants off to do it.”

Ray pulls the carton of gross strawberry milk away from his face to interrupt Michael’s response. “As much as I wanna see this, and trust me, I’m into it, we are running low as shit on shit ready to upload. Can we postpone the whole kinky sex thing until we get back home?”

Somehow they manage to agree to that. Due to Michael’s obvious hangover -tylenol doesn’t work instantly, after all- things stay pretty quiet. Coffee is drunk without a slurp, breakfasts are made with a minimum of clinking and not a one of them throws their used cutlery into the sink. Nothing can last forever though, and a few minutes after the shower stops running, their biggest, beardiest boyfriend has stormed into the room.

“You almost ruined the stream,” Jack snaps. Any rejuvenation that the few hour nap has given him is overshadowed by the tight scowl on his face.

“Nah,” Ray replies.

“What?”

Ray continues in Michael’s defense. “I mean it’s not like the donations were withdrawn. Sure people had a lot to talk about, but the hospital gets its money. So whatevs.”

Ryan scoffs. “Had? I don’t think past tense is the right tense to use. They’re going to be talking about it now, or do I have to bring up Tumblr again?”

“We’re going to have to say something.”

“Why?” Gavin asks, flicking the spoon he’s holding. A drop of milk catapults from the tip onto his boxers. “Can’t we just chalk it up to losing the plot at five am? Wouldn’t be the first time someone went nutters from sleep deprivation.”

“I’ll make you a deal. If less than five- No. If less than ten people at work comment on it before end of day we’ll keep quiet. Retain our air of fuckin’ mystique. Otherwise Jack is right.” Geoff doesn’t particularly want him to be. The secrecy thing has worked great so far. But if the gossip is so prevalent that interns are talking about it on camera? Yeah, chances are they’ll need to say something.

Geoff’s bet is immediately proven right. Never mind before leaving for the day, within ten minutes of entering the lot they’re halfway at his quota. It’s the needing to get second coffees that does it. People who wouldn’t have the brass sack to walk into the actual AH office feel no hesitation at commenting in the break room on how Michael nearly crashed the stream with a swell of viewers at what’s normally a low viewership hour. 

And then there’s the people who actually do come into the office. In the afternoon Lindsay drops in to do some filming for Go. After everything is recorded she sits on Michael’s lap like it’s her throne. Maybe it is. He doesn’t dump her off, after all. “You don’t have to say anything, but wink if I’m right. The whole deal with you guys is Michael is irresistible and you all politely share, right? That’s what Gavin was saying, right?”

“Our deal is fuck off, Lindsay,” Michael says. 

“But I gotsta know! How else am I supposed to win the betting pool?”

“If there is an actual betting pool I’m setting your hair on fire,” Michael snarls.

“No! I can’t pull off bald and charred! It’s not my look!”

When it happens it’s not as formal is getting called into the boss’s office. There’s no fucking write up, no fucking nonsense. Burnie just stops by the AH main office, sticks his head in the door, and says Geoff, whenever you’ve got a moment. Half the time that’d be followed by childish ‘someone’s in trouble’ catcalling. Not today. It’s very fuckin’ feasible they _are_ in trouble.

Sooner rather than later Geoff has to have that moment. He doesn’t want to, fucking obviously, but there’s not really a choice to be had. So he throws himself down in one of the smooth leather chairs and waits for Burnie to say what he has to say.

“Look. A lot of people are really confused about what you guys are doing. None of you have really said anything concrete. Who’s sleeping with who, who’s in love with who, it’s all just guesses based on what we’ve seen. And a lot of that is contradictory. But the general stance has always been if whatever didn’t work you wouldn’t be able to work together the way you do, so it must be fine. We, and by that I mean all your coworkers, we didn’t need to _understand_. We don’t care. The viewers will. They think they’re owed, and whether or not that’s fair doesn’t matter if you lose all your subscribers.”

“I need a fuckin’ drink,” Geoff’s never hidden the fact that he’s bi. He’s maybe not flat out said it, but in every Lets Build hypothetical Gavin’s ever devised he always responds to Gav’s name dropped men too. However there’s a fucking massive difference between referencing bisexual and explaining polyamory.

“I don’t care if you piss out pure Everclear, buddy. Just figure out a way to explain that whole debacle. Feel free to lie, even, as long as you can keep it up.”

“Yeah.” Geoff scrubs his palms over his face. “Yeah, okay.”

Nine times out of ten it’s Michael who leave the office to bring back food, but Geoff needs a minute away from it all. Half of them are working on a Things To Do when he finally gets back to the office and he knows better than to interrupt. Instead Geoff asks Ray what he wants. He’ll extrapolate from there.

Running footsteps follow him out into the parking lot. Gavin barely stops himself from slamming into the car at thirty miles an hour. “Wait! Take me with you!”

“Finish your thing,” Geoff instructs, climbing into his car.

Gavin gets into the passenger seat and clicks in his seat belt. “It’s finished enough. Where are we going?”

“Ray wants a burrito. Michael’s hungover and therefore wants something swimming in grease. The KFC-Taco Bell hybrid down the street it is.”

They listen to a song in relative silence. Then, as Geoff is parking, Gavin says something surprisingly empathetic. “You look like you’re freaking out more now than you were last night.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I want popcorn chicken,” Gavin responds with, bless him.

As it turns out, the line is short on Sunday afternoon. Between the two of them they cobble up an order that’ll likely please everyone, and then it’s off to the side to wait for it all to get cooked. Gavin doesn’t say anything else about their situation, but of course Geoff can’t stop thinking about it. Hence the kicked-ass expression even Gavin noticed.

“So what the fuck do you think I should say?” Geoff would like to say that he doesn’t even know how this became his task, when it’s Michael-Ray-Ryan-Gavin’s stupid recorded actions, but that’s not true. Of course it’s his task.

“Who told you you had to say something?” Gavin asks.

“Burnie.”

“If you think whatever you say would make him do that face thing and shout ‘what does that _mean_ ’, phrase it differently.” Gavin’s answer is a bit hard to parse, but it makes sense once Geoff does. Gavin’s on the podcast with Burnie a lot. He knows quite well how Burnie reacts to someone introducing a new idea. Gavin tends to purposely be confusing for the entertainment value, but he knows how not to be as well.

The ride back is equally music-centric, but this time getting out of the car Geoff feels much better. Or at least like there’s a possibility of feeling better, now. It’s the same old thing; once he has a game plan he can always pull it off, come hell or high water. So Geoff piles the bags of food in Gavin’s arms and heads back towards Burnie’s office. He can nuke his food later, or eat it cold. The best time to reattempt this conversation is now, when he’s still confident that he can actually fucking communicate what he wants.

“You never cared, huh?” Geoff’s opening line might be more of a challenge than it needs to be. So be it. If he’s going to support four closeted boyfriends coming out, he needs to have more of an edge than he’s had in the past.

Burnie takes what’s almost an accusation thrown, a demand to have the balls to deny it, and soft-hands it back. “You know I don’t. Why the hell would I? There’s a line between humourous filmed harassment and intolerance and bullying. I have no fuckin’ interest in the second, and you know that Matt and Gus and the rest of the others wouldn’t either.”

Geoff bites the bullet. “We’re all together, all six of us.”

“Together together, or together like proximity?”

“Both.” Though it’s a dumb question, really. Proximity? What the hell does Burnie think they’re talking about right now, except who’s allowed to kiss whom?

“But you guys always have different stories to tell. If you’re all together, then...”

Geoff snorts. Again, fuckin’ dumb. Though that might be something he has to get used to over the next while. If Burnie and Lindsay are the measuring stick to judge the world by, everyone’s dumb when it comes to non-monogamy. And if dumb questions are gonna become the norm, he’ll have to suck it up and answer like it’s okay to be asked them. Better a stupid ally than an enemy. “We don’t spend twenty four seven with each other. There’s hobbies and shit. Ryan even volunteers. Work’s the motivation to be interesting outside of work.”

“Well it works, I guess. Your content is solid. Like I said before, that’s the most important part to basically anyone above you in the chain of command. You keep doing what you do, I doubt HR’s gonna freak out.”

“We’re not gonna lie.” Geoff hasn’t actually discussed this with his men. Still, he’s pretty sure he’s right about the statement. Gavin would be fine never bringing ExtraLife up again -apathy is almost always the name of his interpersonal game- but he’s not going to outright lie. Ryan and Ray would be fine with lying, but last night will only get properly covered up if they all commit to it, strongly, and Michael won’t board that train either.

“Hey man, that’s up to you. You six, I guess.” 

“Yeah. So-”

Burnie holds up a hand for silence. “I stand by what I say, I won’t pry. But I gotta know this one thing. How does Valentine’s work? Do you each get five things? Are there really twenty five presents traded?”

Geoff laughs, tension completely released for the first time since Blaine waking him. “Try twenty five orgasms, maybe.”

“Sheeee-it,” Burnie drawls.

“Jealous of my poly now?”

Burnie shrugs. “Me and Ash do alright.”

Geoff brings the conversation back to what’s currently relevant. “We’ll have something ready to go tomorrow.”

Burnie nods. “Good luck man.”

*

The video opens almost like a AHWU; Geoff talking, notebook with bullet points in hand.

“So some of you have probably heard of polygamy. Well, when it’s not about being a creep and collecting underage brides, it’s called polyamory. Six dudes in love? Polyamory. Not gonna explain it more, that’s what Wikipedia’s for. Or ask Siri for all I care. If you were watching the Extralife stream you may have seen Michael revealing himself as being with Ryan and Ray, and then Gavin throwing himself into the fray. You might have gotten upset about infidelity or sluttiness. Well, it’s time to get over it. Because hey, guess what? Polyamory’s as real as Rockstar Games finally adding heists.”

Michael steps in front of the camera. “On the other hand, some of you have guessed it already. Your personal instructions are to calm down. There’s only so many times you can shout ‘I told you so’ before someone hits you.” 

Geoff takes back the focus. “Some of what you write or draw about us might even be true. We’re still not kings though-” the camera pans to Ryan. He’s wearing one of the fan made crowns, sitting on the Westeroscraft throne. 

“Or criminal masterminds-” New shot of Gavin in tacky gold sunglasses and Ray in his purple hoodie both standing in front of Gavin’s desk. There’s a baseball bat leaning against Gavin’s leg, splattered with bright red paint. 

“Or shit, even coffeehouse baristas.” Ten seconds of Michael chugging an entire pot of coffee. 

“So despite what you think you know, or wanna know, our content’s a lot more interesting than us. _Your_ content is a lot more interesting. So how about we keep doing our thing and you keep doing yours, with the same tagging screening system you all were using before. Just because it’s plausible doesn't mean everyone wants to see it.”

Geoff watches the video through until the end. It’s short, but says a fuck of a lot if you ask him. There’s not chance in hell he’ll be reading the Youtube comments once they start rolling in. Still, he’s curious. “How do you think they’ll take it?”

“The subscribers? Probably fine.”

“Better than my hometown, anyway,” Ryan says.

Michael winces. “I said sorry about that, right? Because I am really sorry.”

Ryan shrugs. “I knew it was the end of an era when I kissed back. I could have pulled some no homo nonsense. I chose not to.”

“Thanks for not being an anus,” Gavin says.

“Still, I think it’s about time we go home so Michael can ‘apologise’.” Jack ends with an over the top leer, to which Gavin starts giving him shit immediately. In that moment Geoff’s sure that no matter anyone’s reaction, subscribers or co-workers, they’ll get out intact. They’ll be fine. Six fine little cocksuckers in love.


End file.
